


Methos Chronicles 10

by Helis_von_Askir



Series: Methos Chronicles [10]
Category: Highlander - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:42:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24001537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helis_von_Askir/pseuds/Helis_von_Askir
Summary: C'est la vie, and sometimes it just sucks.
Series: Methos Chronicles [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1350058
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	Methos Chronicles 10

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes things just don't work out.

Entering the bar Methos took a look around and spotted Joe and Mac sitting at a small table in the back. The bar was still closed therefore no one else was present. Methos was fine with that.

“Hey, Old Man.” Joe greeted him. “Alone today? Where’s Murron?”

“Packing.” Methos replied and sat down. “She’s leaving.”

“Murron’s leaving?” Joe echoed surprised.

“Her old professor offered her a job back in the States.” Methos shrugged. “Of course she said yes.”

“But she just got the job at the museum here.” MacLeod pointed out. “I mean, it’s only been a couple of years.”

Methos shrugged again. “Yeah, but it’s so far from home. She’s happier back in the States.”

“Why don’t you go with her?” Joe wanted to know.

“She does not want me to. Murron wants a normal life and that is the one thing she can’t have with me.” Methos explained. “Come on, guys, it’s not the end of the world. She’s fine, I’m fine.” He added when he saw the looks his friends gave him. Like he would start to cry his soul out at any moment.

He and Murron had discussed this at length. It was for the best if they went their separate ways, at least for now. They could try this whole relationship thing again later, if they wanted to. But Methos was sure that Murron didn’t want to. Not with him, at least. She wanted children, she had said so several times and even if Methos had been open to adoption, what kind of life would a child have with him nowadays?

And frankly, he didn’t want to move to the States, not right now. He liked Europe a lot better, well, he used to like Egypt even more, but that was another story and it currently wasn’t the place to be, so Europe it was. Maybe he should head back to Rome.

“What are you going to do now?” Joe asked.

“Head back to Rome.” He repeated his thought aloud.

“Right away?” MacLeod wanted to know.

“I don’t know yet. We’ll see.” Methos replied. It wasn’t like he had any duty to tell MacLeod anything but the noisy Scot simply assumed it. Oh yes, he would definitely go back to Rome, if only to escape these two mother-hens. And get back to his work. He hadn’t gotten much done during his time in Paris. Even an eccentric artist could neglect his work for so long.

A couple of days later Methos drove Murron to the airport. She seemed reluctant to go, but that could be Methos’ wishful thinking. Mac and Joe were already there waiting to say good-bye. Joe looked like he was about to start crying.

“I’m going to miss you, kid.” The old mortal whispered as he gave her a long hug. “You were the only one who kept the Old Man under control.”

Methos just rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything.

“I’m sure you two will manage.” Murron replied teary.

“If you ever need anything…” Mac offered somewhat helplessly. One could thing she would disappear from the face of the Earth going by the way these two behaved, Methos thought but wisely kept silent again.

Murron smiled at him. “I’ll call, I promise.” With a sight she took her bad and went to the check-in counter. There weren’t many other passengers this early in the morning and she was done within a couple of minutes. The rest of her things were already on their way over in a container.

They accompanied her to the security check and then left the airport. It felt kind of weird with Murron gone. In the short time she had been with Methos, she had become a part of their group and now she wasn’t anymore.

“How about a drink, guys?” Joe offered on the way back to the cars.

The drink Joe had offered turned into several bottles and Joe and MacLeod becoming sentimental. They started telling stories of their loves long lost, at first not noticing that Methos didn’t join them in their walk down memory lane.

“What about you, Old Man? Whom did you love and lose?” Mac asked with a wistful gaze on his face.

Methos shrugged. He was considering telling them about one of his male lovers, just to see the look on their faces but somehow he was not in the mood for scaring the children. “Too many to count, Highlander.”

“Oh no, you don’t get off that easy.” Joe sided with the Scot “Tell us one, just one.” The mortal wagged a finger at the old Immortal to emphasize this point. Methos was tempted to break it just as a matter of principle.

“Alright,” Methos instead relented. “Just one.”

Egypt, 1.478 BC

With pleasure in her eyes did Hatshepsut look down on the plans for her grave, a great temple worth of a pharaoh of Great Egypt. “You have done well, Senemut. I want you to start as soon as possible on the construction.”

“My thanks, Great King.” Methos replied. Hatshepsut insisted on being spoken to as if she were a man, making it clear that she was the ruler of Egypt, and no one else. Methos, who had taken the name of Senemut as he came to live here, had no problem with that. Quite on the contrary, Hatshepsut was a woman right after his liking. He couldn’t stand those sniveling down-beaten women found in so many other places, including the Horsemen camp.

That she was not hard to look at was an added bonus. Not that he would ever dare to make any advances towards her. She was way too far above his current station to even consider it, well, maybe dream of it, he was a man, after all.

“Talk to my seneschal, he shall give you everything you need.” Hatshepsut instructed and with a deep bow Methos withdrew from the pharaoh’s presence.

This was a good start. If he didn’t fail too badly, he could make a good living here for the next decade or so. Methos had always liked Egypt, if for no other reason that it simply seemed to always be there, never changed too much. And for someone like him that was all too rare. The disaster that had met him her mere five decades ago, he tried to forget for blame sorely on the Hyksos. It had been a crazy time, they had been a crazy bunch, Methos was glad they seemed to have ceased to exist.

And thankfully neither Kronos nor Caspian had much interested in coming here. Silas didn’t care where he was as long as there was raiding to be had. Egypt was a rich country but it was also strong. The Horsemen would not last long here, therefore they stayed away, another reason to like this realm. It gave him a place to go when he needed a break from his brothers. Like now.

The construction of the tomb went well. Methos himself was surprised how little difficulties he encountered. The materials were of the best quality and nearly always arrived on time and the workers were very motivated. They were laboring for their pharaoh, after all. He had gotten a grand house near the palace for his own use given to him by the pharaoh herself. A beautiful place with a handful of efficient and loyal slaves.

Yes, live was good. It was even better than good because whenever he and the Pharaoh were in Inebu-hedj they dined together. Methos loved those occasions because Hatshepsut was not only beautiful but also very intelligent. The Egyptians couldn’t have gotten a better ruler. They discussed all matter of things for hours and hours, sometimes talking away the night.

“Why don’t you have a wife, Senemut?” Hatshepsut asked one evening. “Or at least a lover. Are your slaves not to your liking?”

Methos shrugged. “My slaves are perfectly adequate. But my works keeps me occupied. What is more important than finishing your temple?” The real reason was that he had not been looking for one. He would sometimes spend decades without anyone sharing his bed. For this life it had not occurred to him that anyone would bother to comment on it.

“Keeping your Pharaoh happy, of course.” Hatshepsut replied huskily and rose gracefully to her feet. A moment later her dress pooled around her feet and her naked body was bathed in the light of the candles.

“Oh,” Methos intelligently stated. “This…is unexpected.

“Is it?” Hatshepsut asked as she joined him on his bench. “Then I have been too subtle. My mistake.” She leaned forward and kissed him.

Methos wrapped his arm around her and pulled her onto his lap. As they continued to kiss, his hands started to explore. Her breasts were still firm, despite having given birth, her legs and arms strong. Her fingers very nimble as they reached beneath his shendyt and cupped his manhood.

“Hmm, promising.” She purred, stroking him to full hardness.

“Very promising,” he agreed and turned them around so he was above her.

They kissed again and he slowly entered her. She wrapped her legs around him as he started to thrust into her. It had been a long time, and right now he failed to remember why he hadn’t done this sooner. Probably because he was an idiot. He sped up his thrust when she urged him to, driving her towards her peak.

Hatshepsut dug her nails into his back as she reached her orgasm, clenching around him and dragging him along.

Present Day

“You had an affair with Hatshepsut? No way!” MacLeod exclaimed.

“Yes way.” Methos replied mildly. What did MacLeod expect? That he lived like a monk all these millennia?

“Wait a second.” Joe cut in. “It can’t be true. Hatshepsut ruled while you were riding with the Horsemen.”

Methos shrugged. “So? We were brothers, not joined at the hip. We took breaks from each other every few decades.” Except for the last two, three centuries when Kronos had not wanted to let them out of his sight. It had heralded the end of the Horsemen as far as Methos had been concerned. Not that either of those two sitting in front of him needed to know any of that.

“And you always went back to them?” MacLeod asked shocked.

“They were my brothers. And in an ever-changing world it was nice to have something so constant.” Methos told him quietly.

“Even if it’s bunch of psychopaths.” Joe muttered. “Back to Hatshepsut. How long that last?”

“What are you? My therapist?” Methos wanted to know.

“No, but I’m your Watcher. Zoll may hate your guts but every time I bring her something new about you it’s like she’s in heaven.” Joe told him.

“Right, that sounded vaguely obscene. And it’s not my only purpose in life making Zoll happy. You got your story, be content with that.” Methos told him.

“But I don’t know how it ends.” Joe protested.

“Of course you do, it’s in every history book.” Methos pointed out.

It was early evening when Methos arrived back home. Joe and Mac had kept needling him with questions about Hatshepsut. Why had he told them about her? Why? Why not Zhiyi, or Gerta? Harmless little affairs that had no meaning for any of them?

But Hatshepsut, she had been different. A great king, a thoughtful leader that had brought many years of peace to the people of Egypt. She had not been without fault, of course not, but she had done well, no matter what that little twit Thutmose had later said and ordered written.

Ah well, it was done.

Not being hungry, Methos headed straight for the shower. It was weird to have the house to himself again but he would get used to it soon enough, he always did he always got used to anything.

Egypt, 1.468 BC

The pleasure barge made its way slowly down the Nile. The Great Pharaoh reclined on a dais strewn with pillows and enjoyed cooled wine and grapes.

“You seem worried, Senemut.” Hatshepsut commented to her lover standing at the railing.

“Not worried, Great king, merely thoughtful.” Methos replied and turned to look at her. The years had been kind to her, she was still beautiful and youthful in appearance. It was hard to believe she was entering her fortieth year.

“And what are you so thoughtful about?” She wanted to know.

Methos smiled. “Many things. I do not wish to bore you with them.”

Hatshepsut laughed. “Ah, my love, you could not bore me if you tried. Come here, let me distract you from your thoughtful worries.”

Never one to disobey his beloved pharaoh, Methos joined her and they soon forgot about everything round them. The slaves were long used to it by now and merely turned their backs and watched the passing scenery.

It was hard to believe that nearly a decade has passed since Methos had come to Egypt. Time had been flying by. He knew it was soon time to leave and rejoin his brothers or they would come looking for him. And as much as he might love them, he did not want them anywhere near Egypt.

“That foolish boy!” Hatshepsut hissed as she stormed into her rooms.

Methos looked up from the plans he had been studying. “Thutmose acting up again?”

“He wants us to go to war with our neighbors, again. Like it is the only way to deal with others. Kill them if they don’t submit! That is no way to keep trade going. What is that boy thinking?”

“Not much aside from how to proof his strength, I wager. If he is to be pharaoh one day he needs to proof he is strong enough to lead. Otherwise he will not be able to rule uncontested.” Methos pointed out. They weren’t having this conversation for the first time.

“Maybe I should find another heir. Someone more willing to think with his head not his manhood.” Hatshepsut muttered. She and her stepson never saw eye to eye. When Thutmose had been a child that had not been a problem, but now he was almost a man and started to understand that he should be ruling not his stepmother. And that caused friction. Marrying Hatshepsut’s daughter and his half-sister Neferure had not changed that.

“Or you could give him something to do.” Methos suggested.

“Like what?” Hatshepsut wanted to know.

Methos shrugged. “Like the army. You did let things slide in that regard, you said so yourself. Let him have it.”

“So he can use it against me? I think not.” The pharaoh scoffed.

“It will be years before he can even think about attempting something like that. And he’s not so foolish as to try it now. Just let him have something to be proud of.” Methos reasoned with her.

Hatshepsut sat in a chair drinking some wine. “I’ll think about it.”

Thutmose did get the army to play with. Like Methos had said, it was not in the best of shape. Even Methos would at least five to six years to get it into any useful condition. And he had a lot more experience than the young prince. But Thutmose was happily occupied, which meant Hatshepsut was a lot happier too.

Oh, she had her spies keeping an eye on him, just in case, but for now peace in the royal household had been restored.

And Methos had to face the fact that he really needed to return to his brothers. There had been rumors that a band of marauders had been seen near Kadesh. By the description of the carnage they had caused it could only be his brothers.

A _subtle_ reminder from Kronos were Methos’ ultimate loyalty should lie. Acknowledging that his time in Egypt had come to an end, Methos thought of a way to suffer a deadly accident to slip away without anyone realizing that something was wrong.

Hatshepsut was a very open-minded woman, but even she would not be able to accept what he was. And he did not want her to.

Therefore he would meet his unfortunate end in a hunting accident in the desert the day after tomorrow. Near where he had left Death behind him upon entering Egypt.

He had chosen the place well. A cliff half a day journey from the east bank of the Nile where even the goats dreaded carefully.

It hadn’t been easy, but Methos managed to make his _misstep_ look natural and completely accidental. He fell down nearly three hundred feet, no chance of rescuing him, and came to lay at the bottom of the ravine behind some bushes.

It hurt badly, but pain was something he had learned to endure a long time ago. And he did die halfway down. When he revived the sun had barely moved but his companions had. They would return to the palace and tell the pharaoh about what had happened. Who would hopefully not be too broken up about his demise.

With a groan Methos sat up and waited until his bones had all healed. Then he climbed a short way back up until he came to a little trail barely wide enough for a man to walk. He followed it until he came to a small cave where he had stored his Horseman gear before starting his life in Egypt. It was still all there and he changed clothes quickly, grabbed his pack and set out on foot. He would find a suitable horse on the way north. He carried enough money to buy ten horsed if he felt so inclined.

Eight weeks of hard travel brought Methos to the camp, where his brothers were already eagerly awaiting him.

“Brother, welcome back.” Silas shouted. “We missed you.”

“I’m sure you did.” Methos replied and dismounted. “How did you fare during my absence?”

“Not well.” Kronos told him curtly. “But now that you’re back, times will be better again. I have several targets in mind and would like to hear your thoughts on them.”

Methos nodded. “Of course, brother, of course.”

“Tell us about Egypt, Methos.” Caspian demanded. “Is it ripe for the taking?”

“Only if you want to fight your way through two thousand armed men.” Methos replied.

“I heard their army is weak.” Caspian insisted.

“Was weak. The prince is putting much work into it.” Methos shrugged as if it were of no consequence to him. “We might get lucky, but there are better places for us to raid.”

Kronos gave him an unconvinced look but finally nodded. They would get around to the rich lands along the Nile eventually, that look said. They had all the time in the world.

Present Day

But they had never entered Egypt, at least not together, of that Methos had made certain. Kronos had been suspicious now and then but Methos had always been able to alloy those suspicions with rich plunder elsewhere.

But if he was completely truthful, after Egypt had become a part of the Roman Empire it just hadn’t been the same anymore. And it only went downward from there until the country ended up as one of the many colonies of the British Empire. That had been an utter low.

With Murron gone there was no reason for Methos to stay in Paris any longer. As he had told Mac and Joe, he packed up the house and headed back to Rome. The best thing for him now was work, undisturbed. Besides, the weather was better there anyway.

Rome, Italy, two weeks later

Putting the paintbrush away, Methos examined his latest work. He had not planned on making it, but once he had started he had not been able to stop.

It was Murron, sitting on a couch reading some papers. An ordinary scene from an ordinary day. Ordinary was what he had wanted with Murron. It had not always been successful, but it had been a good try. As for the painting, it was beautiful, if he dared to say so himself.

But there was another one he had to make. Getting a fresh canvas he started with a painting of Hatshepsut.

“My God, it’s gorgeous.” Signora DiNardo breathed when she saw the portrait of Hatshepsut a few days later.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, this one is not for sale.” Methos told her hurriedly and put it away.

“No? But it’s one of your best.” DiNardo said surprised.

Methos smiled a bit sheepishly. “Thank you, Signora, but this one is private.”

The old woman smiled knowingly. “Ah, a sad love story, those are the best, they inspire us the most. Is she why you’re back from Paris?”

Methos nodded. “Among other things.”

DiNardo patted him on the shoulder. “Well, I, for one, am very glad you’re back. I really missed you. Now, show me what I can actually buy.”

Once Signora DiNardo had left with half a dozen new paintings, Methos broke out the booze and got as drunk as he could get. He sat before the painting of Hatshepsut. It was one of his best works, DiNardo got that right. Hatshepsut was reclining next to a full pool with water lilies swimming on top. He remembered that day well. Sometimes it was hard to believe how much time had passed since then. Even for him.

“To old Egypt.” He toasted the painting. He missed old Egypt. He had spent so many good times there. Some bad ones too, but mostly good.

And Hatshepsut hadn’t been his only lover there. Oh no, there had been many, Ahmes, Mutnefere, , Iset, Mernlith, Nebet, Ahmose, Kashek and on and on and on.

“I miss you guys,” he whispered and opened a new bottle.

The next morning Methos was in a bit of a better mood. He cleaned up the mess he had made and went back to work. After all, Signora DiNardo would be back soon and he did have one or two other buyers who were waiting for new paintings.

He was deeply engrossed in his work when the phone rang and broke his concentration. Annoyed at the interruption Methos picked up his cell. “Joe, I’m working. What do you want?”

“My, someone is in a good mood.” “The old Watcher said. “I just wanted to check up on you. _You_ haven’t called in a couple of weeks.”

Methos sighed. Right, he had promised to call. “Sorry, Joe, I kind of lost track of time.”

“I bet you did.” Joe chuckled. “But I have good news for you. I’m being transferred to Rome, permanently.”

“Why?” Methos asked suspiciously.

“The Tribunal wants a closer eye on you, so they volunteered me.” Joe told him.

“You’ll die of boredom.” Methos replied. “And what about MacLeod?”

“Planning some tour across Europe. They put a newbie on him for training.” Joe tried to sound light and uninterested.

 _Training, my ass_. Methos thought. Joe was getting older and was handicapped. The Tribunal didn’t think he could keep up anymore and Methos was a graceful retirement posting. But he didn’t say it. Joe knew this better than anyone. “Well, then, I’ll be seeing you soon. Can’t wait.”

Joe chuckled. “Thanks, man. You’re a real friend.”

Methos even picked him up from the airport. The whole thing happened on such short notice that Joe didn’t even have a place to live yet. Therefore he invited himself onto Methos’ couch.

“And what will you do now?” Methos asked on the drive back to his house. “I mean, watching me won’t fill your work day.”

Joe shrugged. “I don’t know yet. For the time being I’ll be traveling between Rome and Paris a lot. Relocation’s a bitch.”

Methos laughed. “Yeah, tell me about it. But I thought Rome is a permanent thing. What do you need to go back to Paris for?”

“Yeah, well, there’s always a difference between what the Tribunal dreams up and reality. Your chronicles are strictly offline. I can’t send them by mail or e-mail. Only hand-delivery to Dr. Zoll, in person.”

Methos cast him a quick look before focusing back on the road. “And I thought I was paranoid.”

“Nice work, man.” Joe said while studying the old Immortal’s current work.

Methos shrugged. “Just some doodling, you know. Trying to find some inspiration.”

Joe chuckled. “I’d say you found it. Wow!” he breached when he came across the painting of Hatshepsut. He really had to hide that thing somewhere.

“Is that…? Wow.” Joe just shook his head.

“Yes, that’s Hatshepsut. I just…needed to make it, you know?” Methos said somewhat embarrassed by Joe’s reaction.

“Yeah, and that one?” Joe asked and reached for the next one. “Oh, my…” It was the painting he had done of Murron. “Beautiful.”

“You can have it, if you want.” Methos offered. He didn’t like to part with the painting but he felt that he should make the offer. It wasn’t like Murron was completely gone from his life, they chatted with each other via Skype now and then. And Joe clearly had falling in love with Murron a bit. He should have it.

“You sure?” Joe wanted to know.

“Yes, of course I am.” Methos replied. “Now you only need a place to hang it. See it as a little incentive to find one quickly.”

Joe laughed at that. “Oh, don’t worry, I will. I even have an idea what I’m going to do.”

“Do tell.” Methos raised an eyebrow.

“Nothing world shattering.” Joe grinned. “Just what I do best.”

End


End file.
